On the Other Side
by TC591
Summary: Castiel's just moved apartments & everything was going to be good now. Then he found out why the last tenants had moved in the first place: his neighbor has sex really loud. The neighbor that he totally craved. After one quick thing together Cas had to listen to that & it hurt. But nothing is what Cas thinks about his neighbor or his brother. Or indeed the brothers' boyfriend.
1. Prelude & Introduction

Castiel recalled someone saying to him a long time ago that if it seemed too good to be true then it probably was!

However, he purposely ignored that advice when he saw the apartment.

It wasn't overly spacious but it would be sufficient for Castiel living alone.

The front door opened to a short hallway with one door in the middle on the right, two doors on the left and a bathroom at the very end. On the right, the door led into an open-plan living room on the right of the doorway and a kitchen area on the left. On the left hand side the doors were more spaced out and led to two small bedrooms, the front one Castiel had claimed for himself and the back he had turned into an office.

The place was painted with white throughout with the odd touch of pastels here and there giving the whole place a feeling that it was much bigger than it actually was. The furniture came included and the whole complex had a utilities area the size of an apartment without walls in the basement. Castiel almost bit the manager's arm off, with the rent as low as it was he wondered why on earth the previous tenants would have moved out.

Perhaps the two bedrooms were no longer of a sufficient size for them or perhaps the neighbors were noisy but, although he'd never met any of them, Castiel hadn't heard a peep when he'd viewed the property or while he was moving in. His apartment was on the top floor and at the very end so he only shared one wall with neighbors and that was the wall of his bedroom and study.

The way the complex was set out meant that the apartments on the end of each side of the building, like Cas', were mirrored with the others. Meaning, as the manager explained, that on the other side of Cas' bedroom wall was the neighbor's bedroom and that's why, when Cas had viewed the apartment, the man had suggested moving Cas' bed to a different wall. Cas had shrugged and said he didn't mind. He noted that the beds looked almost brand new and when the manager said he would be replacing the couch Cas noticed it looked like hell. When he asked about it the manager said he thought the previous tenants slept in the living room. Cas thought it was strange, to sleep on a couch in the living room when there were perfectly good and nearly new beds in bedrooms but didn't want to press too much before he signed a lease.

He moved all of his stuff in on the Monday and unpacked his bedroom first, logic telling him that he might not finish unpacking before he had to go to bed for work.

He'd already had a job in the area for five years but had to move out of his family home when he realized his family were not healthy for him. His older brothers Michael and Lucifer were at each other's throats, Gabriel had disappeared a year ago having had enough, Anna had ran away in the middle of the night saying that she felt like she was going insane in that house and Balthazar barely even lived there anymore; he touched base whenever he needed cash, either for drugs or bail money, but that was it.

Cas had stayed for as long as he could, he really had. He'd excused every insane trick, every wicked word, every back stab, every time that one of them got caught in the crossfire and every time he'd felt like a pawn, every time he'd done something he felt immoral at the hands of his brothers, every time he'd lowered himself to the same standards in the hope of ending this grudge match to no avail.

And then he'd had enough.

In the end it took something so stupid to make Cas see.

It was a bagel.

A bagel that sat there for nine days. Michael had been spreading cream-cheese on a bagel when the argument had started, over what, Castiel could not remember, but voices had begun to raise, gestures getting wilder and wilder until it became physical and in the process the bagel had fallen down the side of the refrigerator and wedged its cream-cheesy self there. After the punch up it stayed there, both of them claiming it was the other's fault so they should remove it and bin it. Usually Castiel would shake his head and do it himself but, looking at Michael almost unrecognizable with a broken nose, burst lip and fractured elbow and Lucifer with black eyes, swollen left cheek and a bandage on his sprain ankle, Castiel wanted to see just how far they'd go.

Apparently they'd even let mice discover the bagel first before they'd do anything. And Cas didn't even know what they'd done about it because after seeing the mouse scurry in the kitchen at night he'd known there was only one reason why, after their parents inheriting the house from their grandparents and never having a vermin problem, they'd have one now. So, Cas called for a hire truck and moved his stuff out in the middle of the night not really considering that he had nowhere to go.

And that's how, after living in his hire truck for nearly two weeks, Castiel was now hanging up a painting of a honeycomb in his bedroom.

He'd spent all of that day moving in, having taken it off work just to do so, and that night he'd crawled into his bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

And everything seemed to go so well after that.

On Wednesday he was coming out of the elevator after work, pulling at his tie as he did so and a man was standing with his back to Cas at his neighbor's front door, whether he was locking or unlocking the door, Cas didn't know but he turned when he heard Cas walking past him.

He looked at Cas and then smirked as he looked down him, appreciating what he saw. "Hey," he said, his voice harsh but simultaneously smooth, like whiskey.

Cas smiled back and felt his cheeks heat up. "Hello," he replied, still walking towards his door.

The man turned to look over his right shoulder at Cas he passed. "You the new guy?"

Cas turned to look at him, slowing and wondering if he should stop. "Yes, I've just moved in." He gestured to the man's door as he did indeed stop. "Do you live there?"

"No, I'm breaking in," he replied then laughed. "Yeah, I live here." He turned the key, rattled the handle and then bundled his keys into his pocket while stretching his right hand out. "Dean."

Cas took it, noting that it was warm and strong. "Castiel."

Dean licked his bottom lip. "Religious family?"

Cas remembered his family home and how big his dinner table used to be, now it was only big enough for two and that other chair was always empty. "Used to be," he replied, dropping Dean's hand.

"Well uh," the man looked over Cas' face then down him again, making Cas wonder if he was aware he was doing it, "you should come over for dinner one night, it's just me and my brother in here." He gestured to the apartment but didn't take his eyes off of Cas. "And he spends most of his time at his boyfriend's house so." He shrugged, biting his lip.

"I'd like that, Dean," Cas watched the man nod and found himself looking over his face. The freckles, the tan that seemed to keep going under his tshirt, Megadeth, revealing from under his jacket, the t-shirt was tucked into his jeans at one side, not deliberately but as if he'd had something on his belt or, Cas wondered, as if he'd put his hand inside the right side of his waistband for some reason.

"You alright?" the man asked and Cas looked up suddenly, realizing he'd been staring. And not at the man's face.

"Yeah, uh, yes." Cas nodded. "Yes, I am. Sorry, I'm just tired, from work." He gestured over his shoulder. "I have to- I should go but dinner sounds good, just let me know one day."

"Will do," Dean said as he stood there watching Cas retreat.

Cas was very aware that he didn't move until Cas had closed the door and exhaled to himself. "Bonehead," he chided himself. "Complete and utter idiot." He walked into his bedroom and started to undress. "He was trying to be polite, neighborly, and I stand there checking him out." He shook his head. "I'm going to Hell for the embarrassment alone."


	2. All I Wanted

Cas woke up on Saturday feeling like hell, for no reason other than the physical labor of the past week had caught up to him. He hadn't had much sleep or a proper meal yet either, still getting used to the neighborhood and trying to find a routine. He figured next week would be better for him.

At around two in the afternoon there was a solid double knock at his front door so he answered it to see his neighbor standing there, his left arm on the door frame and his smirk devilish as his eyes lifted from the floor up Cas, who had just happened to answer the door in just jeans. No t-shirt, barefoot and hair untamed.

"Wow," Dean said.

Cas stuttered as he ran his hands through his hair. "Dean, I apologize, I wasn't thinking when I answered-"

Dean shook his head. "No, don't apologize, man." His eyes flickered down to where Cas' jeans were open at the front, zip pulled up but button unhooked. "Not complaining."

Cas hastily buttoned up and ran hands over his arms as if willing fabric to appear. "What-uh. What can I do for you?"

Dean's smile indicated he was thinking about something he couldn't say. "Uh, I was wondering if you were free to have that _welcome to the building_ dinner tonight?"

Cas' eyebrows raised. "Oh."

Dean seemed a little disheartened as he moved his arm from leaning on the door frame. "You can say no."

Cas shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just didn't realize you were serious."

"Thought I was just bein' polite?" Dean asked, somewhat amused. "Nah, I just thought you'd wanna." He shrugged.

Cas smiled. "Yes, I would."

Dean's smile returned. "Awesome." He gestured up and down Cas. "Don't change." He winked and began to walk away. "Six okay?"

"Yes." Cas nodded and closed his door. He heard Dean's door close a second later and he looked down himself. "Don't change." He laughed to himself and pushed off of the door.

Cas couldn't understand it. He'd been nervous all day, he'd had this restlessness in his stomach, like bees buzzing around, waiting for something. He'd gone in the shower and come out, towel around his waist. One drop of water periodically found its way down Cas' scalp and running down his back. He pulled the towel from around his waist and roughly rubbed at the back of his hair.

"Stop it, I don't have the time." He was talking to the droplets but he looked at himself in the mirror. Completely naked. He ran a hand over his stomach and tensed it. "I need to find a gym around here."

He thought about Dean and wondered if he would know one, if he worked out. Cas imagined that he did. And then Cas _imagined_ that he did. Running on a treadmill with earphones in and blowing air from his mouth as he thought about whatever he liked in life. _Megadeath_ and sarcasm was all Cas could offer up. And Cas. Well, he seemed to be taking a good look at Cas, seemed to be flirting. Was he flirting? Cas ran a hand through his hair as he thought about Dean doing using the bicycle machine and standing up, really going for it as if chasing something or running from a monster. Cas turned and looked at his back and down to his buttocks as he thought about Dean using weights and eventually taking his t-shirt off, wiping his face with it and still pushing.

Cas grabbed at his pale skin, thinking about how he'd definitely need to join that gym.

Weirdly he hadn't agonized over what to wear. If it had been a date Cas would have tried a million things on, those jeans with that top but then maybe these jeans with that top or this top with those jeans. He had briefly considered a suit but the thought of spending all week in one then Saturday night in one too made him nauseous. He'd reminded himself, over and over again, that it wasn't a date.

In the end he wore his _AC/DC_ t-shirt and jeans that hung to his hips. He figured that, if all else failed, the t-shirt might give them all something to talk about. Cas assumed his brother must have similar music taste, or he hoped. Then the three could converse jovially about the genre and preferences over whatever they were eating and have a pleasant evening. Or that was the plan.

Cas decided that Dean was not a bottle of wine person so he took a bottle of scotch with him next door. He turned it over and over in his hands, trying to decide how to hold it. Holding it like a wine bottle might give Dean the idea that he was putting on a front for Dean's benefit and he was actually a wine person and that would set a precedent for an awful evening. But if he didn't hold it like a gift Dean might think he brought it for himself rather than an offering. In the end Cas held the neck in his right hand and knocked with his left.

He had planned to hold the bottom in his left hand and lift it to gesture to Dean or his brother - this is an offering but we can all enjoy it.

Instead he almost dropped it.

Dean answered the door and the bottle began to slip from Cas' hand, both of them dipping to catch it. They stopped and stared at each other, Cas' hand on the bottom of the bottle and Dean's under his.

"I brought scotch," Cas explained.

"To paint the floor with?" Dean chuckled.

Cas closed his eyes and smiled as he laughed a little. "Sorry, it's just you-"

Cas didn't know what to say as his eyes drifted over Dean. What was he meant to say? _You look so good I forgot how to operate the muscles in my hand._

Dean was wearing an army green shirt, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, over a black t-shirt which was tucked in at the right side of dark jeans. Cas didn't see the rest before Dean spoke.

"Me? All I did was open the door." Dean chuckled again, the both of them straightening up and Dean dropping his hand from Cas'. "You look good."

Cas' mouth was dry. "Uh, tha- thank you. So you- So do you." He exhaled, annoyed. "You look good as well, Dean."

"Come in." Dean stood back and gestured inside and Cas stepped in, looking around. "I forgot to ask," Dean continued as he closed the door behind them, "you're not allergic to anything or one of those veggies, are you?"

"I don't eat fish." Cas turned to look at Dean who looked back questioningly. "It's not an allergy, it's-" He sighed. "It's more of a childhood trauma at the hands of my brothers." He shrugged. "But no, I have no dietary requirements."

"But finding Nemo on your plate is a no go?" Dean asked.

"If you don't mind." Cas smiled.

"Well, I must be psychic." Dean walked ahead, turning left into the first room, which was the living room of the open-plan living room and kitchen area - the apartment mirroring Cas'. "Because I made burgers."

"Sounds perfect." Cas followed him.

The living room, on the left hand side of the door, was a little different from Cas': it was filled with two brown leather couches, a big, dark-wood coffee table in front of a large TV fixed to the wall the room shared with the hallway. Behind the door was a desk with a folded up chair leaning against it in the corner with two laptops on it, one closed and straight and the other nearly closed and just thrown there. Where Cas' kitchen was made up of light-wood cupboards and white marble worktops, this kitchen matched the coffee table in wood and had dark green worktops with the same small breakfast area jutting out from the wall, this time from the right. However Cas noticed it was covered in unopened and junk mail rather than actually in use while the stool nearest the wall had magazines piled up it. On the wall opposite the door was a small motel-esque dining table; there were two chairs tucked in at the sides but indents in the carpet where it looked like a third had been used until recently, Cas would make a guess that the desk chair was brought in as reserve when they had a guest.

Dean went to the fridge and opened it before dipping to check the oven as he spoke, "Beer?"

"Yes, thank you." Cas gestured to the scotch. "What would you like me to do with this?"

Dean looked up as he closed the oven door again. "Oh, sorry." He stepped forward and reached out to take it. "I forgot. Would you rather have-?"

Cas shook his head. "No, thank you. It's a little harsh for during a meal, for me."

Dean nodded. "Yeah." He put it on the counter, near the wall. "Save that for later. Burgers will just be a couple of minutes. Have a seat." He gestured to the living room area and then to the small table. "Or we can sit here now, if you want?"

Cas walked towards the dining table and pointed between the chairs. "Which? Or-" He looked to the folded up chair and wondered if he should bring that over.

"Either one." Dean gestured and held out a beer for him, bringing it back to his chest to twist the top off for him then held it out again. "Here ya go."

"Thank you." Cas took a drink as he sat down facing the kitchen. "So, what is it you do for a living, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean chuckled again as he checked the burgers and then turned the oven off. "I'll give you three guesses."

A smile threatened Cas' face. "Okay." He looked over Dean who was taking the burgers from the oven and closing the door. He had no idea where the spark of confidence came from but Cas' mouth said the word before he could stop it, "Model."

Dean burst out laughing and turned to the left a little, looking at Cas. "You serious?"

Cas glanced down Dean and then looked back to his eyes. "Yes."

Dean hesitated for a second before turning back to the counter. "Strike one."

"Mm." Cas watched Dean put the burgers onto buns and indicate cheese. Cas stood up and walked over, leaning over the breakfast bar. "Yes, please." Dean stepped to the right a little so Cas could see what he was doing. "Chef?"

Dean smiled and put the towel he'd used to open the oven door with down on the counter. "Wait until you taste it to make that guess." He shook his head. "Strike two. Salad?"

Cas shrugged. "I don't mind either way."

"Good." Dean looked up. "Because I don't have anything green."

Cas laughed. "What about red?"

Dean opened the cupboard and turned to put a bottle of ketchup down on the bar in front of Cas. "Done."

"Definitely not a chef." Cas picked up the bottle and walked to the table, sitting down as Dean carried the plates over.

Dean walked back to the kitchen to turn the oven off and pick up his beer. He sat back down and gestured. "Dig in."

Dean watched Cas settle the burger in his hands and take a bite. "Mmm." He nodded, chewing. "Could be a chef," he mumbled.

Dean smiled and looked down to his burger and picked it up. "I'm glad you like it but you've still got one guess." He took his own bite, looking at Cas.

Cas chewed as he considered Dean. "Not a model." Dean shook his head. "Not a chef." Dean shook his head again. "Could be both." Dean smiled a little, with food in his mouth. Cas watched as he used one hand to pick up his beer. "Strong hands." Dean looked at his hands then back to Cas. "Something hands on." He tried to read Dean's face but all he got was chewing and something mischievous. "Mechanic."

Dean chewed a few more times and then shook his head. "Strike three. Out. Thanks for playing."

Cas gestured to the door. "Should I just let myself out?"

Dean considered him a second then shook his head. "I'm a cop."

"Really?" Cas picked up his burger, thinking about his tucked in t-shirt. "I should have seen that coming."

Dean paused. "It doesn't bother you?"

Cas looked up, confused. "Why should it?"

Dean shrugged. "Most guys-"

Cas interrupted, "I don't have anything to hide." He looked up to the side. "As far as I know. Not a murderer, or a pedophile, don't do drugs, don't deal in stolen goods." He looked to the side. "And all other crimes have just gone out of my head." He looked back to Dean and they laughed.

"Is that your defense, Mr...?"

"Novak," Cas said. "Do I need to defense, Officer?"

" _Lieutenant_ Winchester," Dean corrected. "And no, no you don't."

They stared at each other until Cas remembered that his wasn't a date and he really shouldn't be thinking the things he was. So he broke eye contact and looked down, opening the burger to put ketchup on it. "I feel bad beginning our meal without your brother." Cas looked back up. "Is he late?"

Dean paused, watching Cas pick up the bottle. "Uh, no." He cleared his throat and looked at Cas, who looked up. "I thought I was obvious." Cas looked confused. "When I asked you over, it was-it was a date."

Cas squeezed the bottle and a blob of ketchup landed on his burger and on the table. He looked down quickly. "Oh, shit!" He put the bottle down, noting the ketchup all over the surface. "I'm sorry, I've made a mess." He stood up to walk to the sink.

"Cas, it's okay." Dean stood up too. "Leave it."

"No, I should get that." Cas walked to the table and began wiping it up. "I'm sorry."

Dean rubbed his forehead. "I thought I made it obvious."

Cas looked down at his top, it had smatterings of ketchup on it too. "Damn it." Cas sighed.

"Told you not to change," Dean said.

Cas looked up and saw that smile looking back, less cocky and somewhat downtrodden. He closed his eyes and laughed, looking down at his shirt while he tried to get the ketchup off. "Earlier, I was trying to decide what to wear, and I had to remind myself it wasn't a date."

"Really?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded and looked up. "But I think I've messed it up." He gestured to the ketchup. "Literally."

Dean stared at him for a few seconds, Cas' eyes twitching, wondering what he was thinking. This strange man that had climbed out of nowhere into Cas' life, who had asked Cas out after not knowing him more than a few seconds, this man who could have done so much with his life but spends it righteously.

And then Cas wasn't thinking about splattered ketchup or damp clothes or any job, they hadn't even got to his yet. All he could think about was the man standing there, the man who stepped forward and took the cloth from Cas' hand, leaning to his right to dump it on the table. Cas watched him, not moving at all except his head, as he stepped forward and stood in front of Cas, looking over his face while he leaned in, tilting his head to the right and- stopped.

Just before Cas' lips, looking over what he could see, aware that Cas hadn't moved. He pulled back to look at Cas, just enough to see him. Cas' eyes moved over him, unintentionally letting his lips part. He hadn't moved forward but he hadn't moved away either. So, Dean moved back in, kissing Cas.

He'd intended on just the one, quick kiss but as soon as their lips met Cas' arms moved up and around Dean's neck and Dean's around his back. Dean hadn't felt anything like it before; they seemed to melt into each other, the lips against his were so soft but firm, their hips slotted together and tongues were dancing as if they'd done this routine a hundred times now.

"Mmm," Dean spread his hands up Cas' back and found out very quickly that he wanted to feel his skin so he alternated rubbing his hands quickly up Cas' back until the t-shirt moved and he could tuck his hands underneath, feeling the warmth and softness against his rough palms.

"Mm," Cas said in reply to the feeling and ran his hands through Dean's hair. Dean made noises like Cas knew all of the right places to touch, to scrape and to pull. Dean's arms rubbed up Cas' back further, bringing Cas closer to him. That's when Dean felt Cas move his hips against his and he felt the need to grind against him. And when Cas moaned into his mouth he felt like he could have came right there, which was ridiculous. He just wanted to lift him onto the table and screw him right there or pull him into the bedroom and let him do whatever he wanted.

Dean suddenly pulled back, the both of them panting and looking at each other. It was clear they both knew where this was going if they didn't stop.

"We should probably cool it," Dean croaked.

"Yes." Cas nodded.

"Gettin' a bit heated," Dean admitted, clearing his throat.

Cas nodded again and Dean felt Cas lightly twist a group of hair on his head. All he wanted to do was exactly what he had been doing five seconds ago. He felt his fingers twitch, just itching to dig in and fuck the consequences. But they pulled apart slowly, putting a step in between them and tried to look anywhere but at the other person. But it didn't last long. Dean licked his bottom lip looking at Cas' own and Cas swallowed, his eyes dropping to Dean's.

"The food- food is getting cold," Cas practically whispered.

They continued to stare at each other, both unsure what to do. Could they sit down again, as if nothing had happened? Could they continue even though they barely knew each other and lived next door?

"Do you care?" Dean asked and Cas heard those questions tied together in that one sentence. Saying yes would sit them back down, saying no would let the burgers go uneaten.

Cas just reached out and pulled at Dean's t-shirt. "No." He let go as Dean got closer to him and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck again.

Dean smiled as he kissed Cas, pressing his hands against Cas' back and feeling them slot together once again. Dean felt Cas move his hips slightly and push against him.

"Cas..." Dean mumbled against his lips. "Do you want to-?"

Cas just nodded, not taking his lips from his. Dean wasn't sure he was going to make it and decided that they could get to the bedroom later, for now the sofa would do, so he tried to back them towards the couch against the window. However, Cas' tongue wouldn't give up and as a result Dean lost his bearings. Images popped into his head of pushing back against him, calling out his name or pushing into him and looking at Cas in ecstasy. He tucked his hands under Cas' t-shirt at the sides and stroked up his sides as he inadvertently walked Cas too much to his left, towards the couch against the wall instead of the other.

By the time he'd figured out his mistake and tried to correct it it was too late the back of Dean's left leg caught the side of the sofa and sent him backwards, landing diagonally on the far arm of the couch. Cas fell with him but Dean broke the kiss to let out a groan of pain as the cushion puffed down under his weight and revealed the hard wood underneath.

"Sorry!" Cas said, putting his hands to the leather and pushing himself up. "Are you okay?"

Dean nodded and strained as he spoke, "Yeah." He arched his back and moved over a little, taking Cas with him. He used his hands on Cas' sides to pull Cas' hips towards him. "Let's just stay here." He leaned and kissed Cas' neck while he thrust up to grind Cas against him.

Cas let out a groan and closed his eyes. "Yeah, okay."

He felt his belt being tugged at and heard it rattle and gripped the leather in one hand.

"God, Dean." Cas moaned and Dean completely stopped.

Dean lifted his lips to Cas' ears while Cas' eyes opened, worried he'd done something wrong. "Haven't even touched you yet," Dean whispered, sounding as cocky as he did aroused. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Cas shuffled on his hands, making sure he wasn't going to fall on him and pursed his lips together. "Do you want to touch me?"

Cas heard a breathy chuckle leave Dean's lips, felt the warm air on his ear and heard the belt buckle click open. Cas felt the zip slowly open and Dean press his hand to Cas' abdomen, tucking his fingers inside Cas' boxers and curling his fingers around Cas' hard dick. Cas groaned softly.

"Oh, yeah." Dean touched left cheek to Cas' at an angle so that the side of his lips dragged across the skin. "Yeah, I want to touch you." He began stroking Cas, up and down, slowly but firmly. "When I saw you in the hallway I could have dragged you inside right there and then."

"Really?" Cas asked, barely able to hold himself back from thrusting into Dean's hand, thinking about what would have happened if Dean had, wanting to hear every dirty idea he had about it.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. And when you opened the door this morning-" He groaned and Cas felt him lift his hips briefly. "It's all I could do not to push you inside and do everything I was thinking about."

Cas shifted his weight to his right and started using his left to undo Dean's pants. "And what were you thinking about?"

Dean grinned a little and moved back to kiss Cas' neck as he pulled at Dean's button and zipper. "Oh baby, are you sure you're ready for that?"

Cas hung his head. "No." He groaned. "But I want to be."

Dean's hand stopped and Cas looked up. "Should I stop?"

Cas shook his head. "That's not what I meant." He thrust a little and Dean slowly started stroking again. "I meant that I don't think I could keep up with you." He moaned and pulled at Dean's jeans before pulling Dean's boxers down and rubbing his palm up Dean's length.

Dean bit his lip. "I think you're doing just fine." He looked down. "C'mere."

Cas re-positioned himself so that Dean could take them both in hand and Cas thrust into his hand, making them both close their eyes and groan deep - the thought of protection not managing to find a single space in their now lust-clouded minds. Dean lifted his left hand to Cas' jaw and the man leaned forward to kiss Dean, electing to abandon that quite quickly as he thrust harder and quicker while Dean moved his hand, finding himself thrusting up too. Both of them looked down periodically, their brows dipping and panting into the otherwise quiet room that still had the smell of burgers and beer lingering in the air.

Cas looked over Dean's face and down to what they were doing before looking back up. "How in holy hell are you single?" he asked, barely managing to strain the words out against the moan rising in his throat but it was taken over by a smile when Dean let out a laugh.

"Could say the same about- shit- about you." Dean moved his hand back to thread his fingers in Cas' hair, tightening his other around them. "Cas, I think I'm getting close."

Cas nodded. "Good, I've been there since you asked me for dinner." Cas smiled again when Dean laughed.

"Stop making me laugh when- when I'm about to cum," Dean breathed. "Jesus, Cas, I'm gonna cum." He closed his eyes and rolled his hips, furrowing his brow as if he expected it to hurt.

"Go," Cas thrust harder, "cum, Dean." Dean groaned, Cas pulled his t-shirt up quickly. "I'm right behind you."

"Yeah?" Dean's head tipped back and Cas dipped to kiss his neck. "Cas- I'm-"

"Dean-" Cas' left hand went to Dean's hip where he held on and rocked harder against Dean.

Dean let out a soft groan as he shot over his own stomach, Cas felt the member pulse beside his and watched Dean's face as he came, words swallowed by some need to be as quiet as possible that Cas would have to consider later because he was right behind Dean, as he'd said.

He hung his head and moaned the man's name as he came, adding to the pile on Dean's stomach and hand.

As he panted he heard Dean's own breaths beginning to calm and felt the hand in his hair loosen, he looked up and they smiled.

"Not exactly what I expected," Cas said.

"Me neither," Dean admitted. "I thought I might get a kiss but I didn't expect this."

"Oh, did you?" Cas smirked as Dean let them both go.

Dean shrugged. "Well, you know..."

Cas looked over Dean's face and couldn't tell if he was kidding or being serious. He wondered if that hint of smile was bashful or not. And then he wondered why he would be expected to. He only found out the man's full name five minutes ago. Until then he was a complete stranger. And then Cas realized that he still was. He realized what he was doing. With a stranger. A stranger that he had to see every day.

"Uh..." Cas moved back, tucking himself in and feeling the panic rise up. "I should go."

Dean made to sit up then looked at himself. "Some help?" he asked as if what had said was a completely normal reaction in that moment, as if he'd expected nothing less.

Cas looked at him and then around the room. "Em..."

"Bathroom, towel or something?" Dean said, looking a little annoyed.

Cas stood up and found a towel in the bathroom. He stopped and looked at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror; his hair was all over the place, he was still breathing heavier than normal and his lips were red and swollen. He dipped his head, returned to the sitting room and handed it to Dean. "I don't usually do this and I- I have church tomorrow."

Dean nodded. "Okay, yeah, course." He began wiping his stomach. "Don't let me keep you."

Cas looked to the burgers. "Dean, I really thought-".

Dean looked at Cas. "Yeah. But then, what was this?"

Cas pursed his lips together. "Honestly? I don't know."

Dean exhaled and looked back to what he was doing as he folded the towel and shook his head. "Just get out, Cas."

Cas looked confused and stood there.

"I said, get out!" Dean shouted, not looking up.

Cas' brow dipped as Dean finally looked at him with an expression that told him he was waiting for him to leave, then he made for the front door, walking out of the living room and pulling the apartment door closed behind him.

He didn't understand anything that had happened. Since when did ridiculously attractive men ask him on dates, since when did he do more than kiss on the first date and since when did it feel like he'd done nothing wrong? Nothing until the end, that is. Cas had freaked out, all of those previous questions swimming in his head along with a man beneath him who had been moaning his name, grinding against his hips and sucking on his lips. It was all so... not natural, that Cas had freaked.

And then Dean had thrown him out.

Cas got ready for bed while Dean put the burgers and beers in the trash and threw the dishes in the sink.

They both walked into their bedrooms, that shared a wall, and lay staring at the ceiling, Cas inside the cover and Dean on top of his, wondering what had just happened.


	3. The Wall

"Hold that!" a voice called out, echoing in the hallway of the apartment building.

Cas put his hand out and stopped the elevator doors from closing.

A man ran in and exhaled as he looked at Cas. "Thanks."

The man was tall with long hair, coming to the base of his neck at the back. He was wearing boots, jeans and a red and white plaid shirt under an open khaki green jacket.

"No problem," Cas said and pressed his floor again. "Which floor?"

The man looked. "That one."

They shared a quick smile then looked forward.

He turned to look at Cas properly but still face his body forwards. "I haven't seen you before."

"Just moved in." Cas nodded.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam said and then turned more to put his hand out. "Sam."

Cas took his hand. "Castiel."

Sam smiled. "Like the angel."

"That was the intention," Cas said and they dropped their hands. "Not sure I lived up to it though."

Sam laughed. "You should swing by sometime." They exited the elevator and turned right, walking along the corridor to the end together. "I'm rarely here but we could arrange a night, have dinner." Cas paused, he'd heard that before. "There's just me and my brother but I'm sure my boyfriend would tag along." He chuckled.

Cas slowly realized they were still walking. There was only two flats left and one was his. That meant...

Sam stopped at the door. "Anyway, just give me a shout."

Before Cas could answer the door opened.

"Sam, I got to go," Dean said. "I got a murder." He turned his head and did a double take at Cas standing there. "Hey."

Cas smiled politely and then started unlocking his door.

"Dean, this is-" Sam began.

"I have to go," Dean walked past Sam with his coat in his hand and his gun in its holster on his hip. He didn't stop to get the elevator.

"Yeah," Sam said, holding the door open.

Cas looked at Dean who stopped with his left hand on the door to the stairway and then turned to look at Cas who looked away and pushed his front door open. Dean left.

"Anyway, hope to see you sometime," Sam smiled to Cas. "But I got to get dinner on."

"It was nice meeting you, Sam." Cas went into his house and closed the door, sighing audibly.

"Lieutenant." Dean's sergeant nodded to him as he was writing in his notepad. "Get here alright?"

"I got here as fast as I could, Tran, alright?" Dean quipped, moodily, to Kevin.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Sorry, boss."

Kevin was a lot younger than Dean and would surpass him soon but Dean didn't mind, he'd already passed up promotion to Captain twice. He'd shoot himself if he had to sit behind a desk every day, he knew himself well enough to know that he'd be too curious. He was good at sports at school but was always in trouble, purely because he found it too hard to sit on the bench and do nothing, he'd open his mouth and shout at coaches for messing up. He didn't stay on teams long. Kevin was a new Sergeant, Dean had only been working with him six months and he liked him. He was smart but book smart; it was Dean's job to teach him street and people smarts.

He'd never imagined that Kevin could teach him anything, the other probies hadn't. But he was actually learning things from the kid. Usually he'd dismiss them, why would he need to know anything about hacking when they had techs to do it? And yet Dean realized quickly that not only did Kevin know pretty much what all the techs knew and more, that there was a new generation of criminals that he wasn't ready for. Criminals who knew the things Kevin and the techs knew, the things Dean didn't.

So when Kevin rambled off how to track cars by hacking into the newer models on board GPS systems Dean reluctantly listened. He didn't exactly have a choice since, at the time, Kevin happened to be in the driver's seat when the suspect took off and Dean had the laptop on his lap in the passenger seat. He had pulled the door closed as Kevin gave chase, with no time to switch places, Dean rambled directions and instructions on driving better and faster while Kevin rattled off how to hack into the car to, not only make sure they didn't lose it, but to gain control of the car and put it to a stop.

They'd looked to each other and smiled while their weapons were drawn and pointed at the driver who had embezzled money out of a brokerage firm and tried to run, killing his wife, who was also his partner in crime, before he did so. Dean and Kevin had been investigating the murder when they caught on to the embezzling and he ran.

Dean wouldn't admit that Kevin had taken a job that no one else would. He'd had some trouble with sergeants before. They complained he didn't follow protocol, that he was a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy, one chick had even said he was sexist. Women though, right? It was all bull, Dean knew that. One dude had reported Dean for punching a suspect in the face, even though the guy was biting into Dean's arm. Dean had tried to point out to his superior, Captain Singer, that the guy had no problem with it at the time, but when he'd turned up at Dean's apartment on the pretext of a case and came onto him only to be rejected suddenly that punch was a problem.

Captain Singer had been a rank above Dean since he'd joined. He was more than Dean's mentor, he was like a second father to him. So, thankfully for Dean, he knew the guy. He knew when he was lying and he knew when some scorned kid was trying to cause trouble.

"So, what's the deal?" Dean looked down at the body on the sidewalk and then looked up to the building's roof.

"Gordon Walker, uh thirty-two from Missouri," Kevin replied. "Witnesses heard a scream at 4:30-"

"16:30," Dean said, not for the first time. "Military time, Tran. It proves useful."

Kevin nodded and continued, looking at his notepad briefly to remind himself where he was. "And then Walker hit the sidewalk a few seconds later."

Dean stood looking at the body lying face down in the concrete. The black male was about six foot and well built. His jacket was still on, over his shirt and he had black pants on, as if he'd been in a meeting. Dean looked to his feet - he had both socks on but one shoe - and then around the sidewalk and road around the body.

"M.E?" Dean asked, as he started to look along the gutter.

Police had shut off the street with tape and there were officers stationed at points along the tape on both sides, to make sure no one got in, if they tried, for whatever reason.

"Stuck in traffic," he raised his head and looked down the street at the cars in the distance, "think that's him, way at the end." Kevin shrugged and looked up, pointing. "Still trying to locate the room he could have jumped from."

Dean kept looking at the ground and then approached a uniformed officer. "Shoe?"

"Sir?" the man asked, confused.

He pointed to the body. "He's only got one shoe on. Find out if anyone's seen it, if they haven't, look around for it."

"Sir." The man nodded and walked away, looking at the ground before looking at the body and judging where it might have landed. He looked up to the building too as he approached a colleague.

Kevin flicked his notebook. "Manager of the building, a Mr Devereaux, he's waiting for you in the lobby. Well, technically he's waiting for Singer."

"Why?" Dean asked, glancing to the police officer he'd sent on a shoe mission.

"He refuses to open apartment doors without someone in charge."

Dean gestured with his finger for Kevin to follow. "Well, lucky him."

Castiel poured over the account books all of the next night and was so tired he ordered a pizza for his dinner still using his 'I've just moved' excuse.

As he was paying, the elevator opened and Dean emerged talking into his cell.

He looked absolutely exhausted, as if he'd been out since Cas seen him leave the day before, his jacket over his arm and his phone to his ear. He looked at Cas as the pizza man passed him and caught the elevator.

"Yeah, well you do that, Tran. I'm just going to catch some shut eye and I'll see you later." He hung up as he got to his door.

"Bad day?" Cas asked.

Dean sighed and looked at the door. "Bad week." He pushed the door open and went inside.

Six hours later, just after midnight, Cas was woken from his sleep with loud banging. He forced his eyes open and half sat up, trying to place the noise. At first he thought that someone was trying to crash in his front door. Then he realized it was coming from behind him, not directly, but more towards his office.

And that's when he heard the moaning.

"Oh my god..." he muttered, he heard two people moaning and the banging continued. "You have got to be kidding."

"Harder, baby," a voice grunted.

Cas felt like it was familiar and then he remembered Dean speaking on the phone as he went into his apartment.

"Oh God." Cas put his pillow over his head and listened to the same sounds, only slightly muffled.

Cas looked at the floor and then remembered how Dean had groaned and lifted his hips to grind against Cas as he admitted that he could have taken Cas the minute he answered his front door and done everything he wanted to. Everything he was doing on the other side of the wall now.

"Fuck!" another deep voice rang out.

That's when Cas scrambled up and dragged his pillow and duvet cover into the living room, closing his room door behind him. He dumped the things on the couch, walked back into the hall, shut the office door and then the living room door as he walked back through.

He fixed the cover and pillow and looked at the couch as he did. It was old, as if someone had been sleeping in it. The building manager said that he thought the previous tenants did just that, instead of the beds.

And then Cas realized why Dean had asked Cas out so quickly, why he'd been so cocky, why he'd been sucked in by him and why he'd thrown Cas out.

He heard the light banging in the distance and sighed heavily - his neighbor screwed everything that moved... And loudly.


	4. Point of Know Return

All weekend that's what Cas heard. Banging and moaning. It never stopped. He'd all but moved his office into the living room and was sleeping in there.

Sunday night had been no different and when he woke up on Monday morning he'd had about three hours sleep. Not just because they were banging so loud and long but because when they weren't banging Cas was waiting for it to happen again. He couldn't relax for the anxiety that the minute he relaxed it would start again. But what kept him up the longest was the images he couldn't shake from his head.

He'd been the one grinding against Dean, he'd been the one kissing him, Dean had been stroking his dick until he came and Dean had been saying his name. And despite everything Cas wanted to feel it and hear it all again. So, obviously, he was mad at himself for that.

However, when Cas came home with a lump on the side of his head the last thing he needed was Dean being there.

And yet he was.

He was coming out of his apartment, he'd obviously just showered, he looked fresh and rested. He looked scotch-dropping hot, as usual. Cas watched him nearly drop all of the files he had in his arms and push his hips against the door to catch them and then Cas couldn't focus right because he was angry and he realized that it was all that asshole's fault.

Dean glanced to him and, before turning all the way away, he took a double take. "Cas, are you okay?"

Cas kept walking. "Fine."

"What happened to your face?" Dean readjusted the files in his arms and walked to Cas, the door having already been locked before Cas had exited the elevator.

Cas stopped at his door to unlock it. "What happened to my face?" he asked angrily. "I'll tell you, Dean. I have had almost no sleep this weekend because of you and whoever you're ploughing in there and this morning," Cas unlocked the door, "I fell asleep at my desk, slipped and whacked my head off of the arm of my chair." Cas smiled and stepped into his apartment. "That's what happened."

"Wait, wha-?" Dean said, as Cas closed the door in his face. Dean lifted his hand to bang on the door but his cellphone rang so he reluctantly took it out of his pocket and answered it. "Winchester."

"The lawyer's here, boss."

"I'm coming, Tran." Dean turned around and made for the elevator, looking over his shoulder. "Hold him until I get there."

Cas came up with a simple solution for getting a good night's sleep through the week: he got absolutely stinking drunk. And it worked, mostly.

The problem was that Cas had been drinking for four days straight.

Sunday night he'd tried his usual drinking routine of a few glasses of wine but found he didn't quite pass out quickly or deeply enough as he woke up when they went at it at eleven and then again at one and then again at gone four. They were being kind that night.

Monday morning he was tired and a little hungover. Monday night he decided he needed to go hard or go home so he went for a bottle of scotch, identical to the one he'd taken to Dean's house. He knew that the higher the proof meant that he'd pass out quicker. And he did, three quarters into the bottle.

Tuesday morning was hell. He woke up on the couch and cracked every bone in his back as he stood up, without even trying to. He groaned and then sighed. Then his stomach reminded him of the downside to his stupid but effective plan. He put his hand to his stomach and decided that if he was going to throw up he'd do it in the shower and save himself time. He needed to make sure he wouldn't turn up to work smelling like a brewery. That night he opted for wine again but more and quicker, it took him longer to pass out however he woke up in the night to urinate and with a sore back he went to his bed assuming that everyone would be done for the night. He managed to get through the next few hours before his alarm.

Wednesday morning was secondary hell. He hadn't really recovered from Monday night and his breakfast didn't feel welcome in his stomach at all. He took medicine for his stomach then medicine for his headache and even a couple for his digestive system. People weren't made for constant alcohol consumption and Castiel was no exception. At work his usual lunch was skipped and replaced with more tablets. That night Cas had moved to putting soda water into his wine, he didn't quite pass out but his sleep was deep enough that he was almost late. In actual fact he considered phoning in sick but he couldn't, they had a massive account deadline next week and he needed to do his part.

Thursday morning was rough. His colleagues kept asking him if he was coming down with something and he had to lie and say that he thought he may have an infection or bug coming on while he knocked back tablets. He spent the whole day eyeing his waste paper basket, thinking that he'd quite like to stick his head into it and barf for the rest of the day. Maybe then he'd feel better. But he didn't, he got through the day and almost got out of the building before the head of his section called him back.

Castiel panicked - maybe he smelled of alcohol and didn't realize it, in the way that smokers don't. But no, she was worried that Castiel would infect the staff and told him to take next week off.

"No, please. Naomi, I have to be here. I'll be fine by Monday, please." He looked at the Ice Queen with begging eyes.

She relented. "Fine." Cas sighed with relief. "But I don't want to see you tomorrow and if you turn up on Monday in this state you're going home." She tilted her head forward.

"Absolutely." Cas nodded. "Thank you." He left and his face changed as soon as he did.

He didn't make a sound all the way home, the radio was turned off and he kept his focus forward. He was livid. It was all that damn asshole's fault. And he was going to make sure he knew it.

Castiel was going to kick off.

Or he would have if anyone was home. He banged on the door but there was not a single sound inside. So he went into his apartment and took his chance. He went straight to sleep.

Castiel opened his eyes lazily when he heard it. Banging, again. It was dark around him and he groaned, closing his eyes again briefly. He could feel his body protesting already, sharp pains behind his eyes telling him that he shouldn't be awake.

"No." He sat up and rubbed a hand forcefully over his hair. "No, you're not going to ruin my life!" He shouted to the wall as he got out of bed. He threw pants on as he kept trying to out-shout the couple. "I'm not losing the biggest account of my career for you, Winchester!"

He stormed out of his bedroom and forcefully pulled his front door opened, then banged on the Winchesters' front door. When he didn't get an answer he banged on the window next to it with the curtains pulled over and Dean emerged, his hair everywhere and an annoyed questioning look on his face.

"What?" he said through the window and then looked down Cas' chest.

Castiel pointed to the front door and walked to it, as angrily as he could muster.

Dean pulled the front door open. "What the hell, Cas? Woke me up, man."

"Woke you up?" Cas said and Dean nodded. "Woke you up!" Cas shouted. "Well I'm happy to know you've been sleeping! Because I certainly ha-" He stopped. "Wait, you were sleeping?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, wh-"

Dean turned to look into the apartment and Cas looked as they both heard banging and moaning in the background.

Cas put a hand to his face. "It's Sam, isn't it?" he asked calmly as Dean looked back. "It's Sam that's been having loud sex and keeping me awake?"

Dean seemed surprised and pointed to himself. "You thought it was me?"

Cas shrugged. "Well, who else could it be?" Dean pointed over his shoulder and indicated what he was holding. A cassette player with the headphones sitting around his neck. "Well, I know that now!" Cas shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"It's fine, I've told him about it before. He doesn't usually live here. He moved out a while ago, him and G-" He looked behind him. "Sam, knock it off, man! Or do it quicker!" He turned back to Cas as the noise lowered for a few seconds then kicked up again. "Sorry. They moved into an apartment a few weeks ago and then a pipe burst so it's been being fixed and the place redone, you know, water damage."

"Right." Cas nodded, his face red as hell and feeling mortified. "Sorry." He walked away into his apartment, the sounds of banging and moaning following him.

Dean pulled his cassette player off, dumped it on his bed and ran out, closing the door. He pushed Cas' door open and looked to the left, seeing that they were bedrooms he went to the right, into the living room after closing Cas' door. "Cas, are you okay?"

Cas turned to look at him having put the lamp on, and then shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. I'm not sleeping because apparently your brother and his boyfriend are insatiable so I decided getting drunk and passing out was a good idea."

"I thought you looked like hell," Dean said.

Cas let out a laugh. "Just what I needed to hear."

"Well, you didn't look like that the last time I see you with your top off. I mean, your face looks like it's gone down but you do look stressed as hell, Cas. And like you could do with sleep."

"Tell me about it." Cas smiled to him. "I'm sorry for having a go at you, I just assumed it was you."

"And why would that be?" Dean walked towards him.

Cas exhaled. "Because I just assumed you go around screwing everything you can, regardless." He rubbed his face harshly and walked to his couch to sit down. "I don't know why."

"Is that why you left?" Dean asked, looking at the floor.

Cas looked up. "Left?" Dean moved his eyes to Cas. "Oh." Cas looked ahead. "No. I left because- because-" Cas swallowed. "Because I freaked out. I didn't even know you and yet there I was not only kissing you but- but-" he gestured to the air and stopped.

Dean walked to the couch and sat down on Cas' right, not saying anything.

All that they could hear was the banging and groaning in the background. They glanced to each other and then burst out laughing.

"How could you think that was me?"

"Well, how would I know what you sound like?" Cas asked and Dean just raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but that wasn't sex that was- that was…" He paused again. "That was out of control."

Dean leaned forward. "And you always have to be in control?" He smirked.

He smiled a little. "That's not what I mean. I mean in control of myself. I don't kiss on the first date, never mind that!" He gestured. "It was like I'd stopped thinking."

Dean nodded. "Well, I'll tell you a secret." He gestured for Cas to lean in as he looked over his shoulder as if someone might hear. Cas reluctantly leaned in and Dean put his lips to Cas' right ear, making Cas' eyes close. "That's when it's the best."

He grinned and Dean pulled back, letting out a little chuckle as Cas looked down then up to him.

"You know, you're cute when you're mad," Dean said.

"Must be because I'm tired and hungover," Cas said, being too tired to hear the intention behind the comment. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean smiled, thinking he was probably being brushed off again. "No need. What do you think I was listening to music for? They're at it all the damn time. That's why he moved out, I told him he needed to go before I went crazy." Cas laughed. "No one wants it that much."

Cas nodded. "I had a brother like that."

"Had?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "He's not dead. No, I just haven't seen him in a long time." He cleared his throat. "I got into trouble today, I'm not to go in tomorrow and almost lost my big account. So, I may have to hurt your brother."

"That bad?" Cas nodded and Dean blew air out of his mouth. "Damn, I'll do it for you." He looked back to Cas. "He moves out on Monday."

Cas closed his eyes and shouted. "Yes!" Dean laughed and Cas looked at him. "So," he wiped his mouth, "he's louder than any human being on earth." Cas gestured to the wall in front of them, indicating Sam, and Dean laughed again. "And yet, you barely make a sound." Dean paused and Cas looked down. "What's that about?"

Dean let out one awkward laugh and looked down too as Cas looked up. "That's um..." He swallowed. "Classified."

Cas nodded. "Fair enough."

Dean shifted and stood up. "I'm going to go hurt my brother." Cas nodded and stood up too, to walk Dean to the door. "Sorry again, Cas."

"It's fine. Hey, Dean?" Dean turned to him as he stepped onto the hallway. "Maybe we could..." He shrugged. "Try the dinner thing again? You know, actually eat the food this time?"

"Really?" he asked and Cas nodded. Dean grinned. "Sure." He nodded. "But uh," he gestured to Cas' bare chest, "if you're dressing like that I'm not promising."

Cas smiled. "I'll be sure to wear lots of layers."

"Let's not go that far." Dean smirked then walked away.


End file.
